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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569510">No more sinecures, let's blow this joint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whydoihavethiskink/pseuds/whydoihavethiskink'>whydoihavethiskink</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beyond Dead Dove, Bugcatching, Coprophagia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Fantasy, Diarrhea, Dom/sub, Emetophilia, Free Use, Gangbang, HIV/AIDS, Internal Watersports, M/M, No Condoms, Nullification Fantasy, Piss Enemas, Scat, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Shit Eating, Vomiting, both ends, emetophagia, scat eating, suicidal behavior, vomit eating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:42:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whydoihavethiskink/pseuds/whydoihavethiskink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Boy who Lived, forever trapped by his reputation and a choice he made for the sake of others. The Death Eater's heir, forever trapped by the things he's seen and done. There's only one train out of this mess, and it's not from Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters and there's no trip back--so why not enjoy the ride out?</p>
<p>Or, Harry and Draco work on killing themselves in the most scandalous, hedonistic, and flat-out disgusting way possible. Less dead dove, more rabid zombie dove. DLDR.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No more sinecures, let's blow this joint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWDLM/gifts">ALWDLM</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry couldn’t remember the name of this dive. Not when he was drunk enough for what he planned to do next. He tossed back the last of his sixth drink, then headed towards the back room.</p>
<p>“And where are you going?” asked the bouncer. Not just anybody could get into this show.</p>
<p>“I was headed to the gents, but it wasn’t filthy enough,” said Harry. Or at least a close enough approximation of the passphrase. He couldn’t feel his tongue.</p>
<p>“Number?”</p>
<p>“Twenty-seven.” You got a numbered invite, just in case someone overheard the passphrase. Also to make sure these things didn’t overflow the event space.</p>
<p>“Go ahead.”</p>
<p>It took Harry a couple tries to get the doorknob to interface with his hand, but he managed eventually. Down a dingy hall, third door on the left. He thought he was prepared for what he’d find inside.</p>
<p>He was prepared for the plastic sheeting on the floor, the acrid smell, the puddles, the numerous half-naked men using a filthy, soaked body that dangled from a stained sex sling.</p>
<p>He was not prepared for that body to turn out to be his old rival, Draco Malfoy.</p>
<p>It actually took Harry a minute to see it. Draco was face-down, and his hair was soaked with several men’s piss and cum, making it look darker than usual. But then the man using his mouth came and Draco turned his head to receive another cock, and Harry’s eyes met his. For a split second, a look of shock and recognition flashed across both their faces.</p>
<p>“Only rule is no condoms,” said Draco, voice hoarse from sucking dicks.</p>
<p>Harry nodded, mouth dry with arousal. He took his place in the line of men waiting for Draco’s ass. He’d always secretly craved Draco’s ass, and never thought he’d get to have it. The few times he’d seen Draco out of robes when they were both at school, he’d tried his hardest (heh) to figure out just how much curve that butt had, and now? It was on full display before him, its creamy roundness marred only by a few bitemarks and hand-shaped bruises. He could already imagine what it would feel like around his cock. He undid his jeans in preparation; his cock strained so hard against the fly that he could barely unzip them.</p>
<p>Draco’s ass was everything he had imagined. So tight, despite the number of people who’d already used it—maybe he was using magic to keep it tight—and so slick with mingled loads of cum. Harry thrust into it again and again, savoring how it squeezed around his shaft with no thought for Draco’s pleasure. Draco was just a thing to be used; why else would he be in this room? Harry felt his balls draw up; he wanted to make this last, but it felt too good to stop. He spurted inside his rival’s ass, adding his cum to that of at least half a dozen men before him.</p>
<p>Draco spoke before Harry could pull out. “Piss in me.”</p>
<p><em>In</em> him? Sure, Draco was being pissed on and drinking piss, but inside him? It was depraved—and so, so hot. Harry’s cock was doing its best to get hard again, not that it was going to succeed for about ten minutes. Fortunately, the drinks he’d had earlier meant he had some piss to give Draco. Harry released his bladder inside Draco’s bowels, tentatively at first, then full force.</p>
<p>Draco moaned as his belly was stretched by Harry’s piss. It wasn’t the first load of piss he’d taken that way that night, nor the second. Normally this was reserved for people who paid extra for their tickets. But then Harry was there, and he wanted Harry’s piss invading his colon. His bowels sloshed, full of liquid, and he felt a sick thrill of arousal as Harry began thrusting again, apparently brought back to hardness by the unspeakable act.</p>
<p>His belly felt so full. He’d swallowed so much piss and cum, had so much pumped into him, and now Harry was making it all move inside him. As someone else shoved a cock down his throat, Draco vomited piss and cum and the remains of pills all over that cock and the floor. A few people left when they saw Draco puke—puke was a harder kink than piss, and smelled worse—but Harry was even more turned on, panting and slamming against Draco’s ass until he spilled a second cumload inside him.</p>
<p>Draco thought “Good. I made him happy,” before he passed out.</p>
<p>Harry pulled out. Without Draco being conscious, there was now nothing holding all that piss and cum in. It leaked and then sprayed from Draco’s ass, splattering on the plastic sheeting, white and yellow liquid, then brown, what had been in there long enough to mix with his shit. A trickle of vomit and spit still clung to Draco’s lips.</p>
<p>At this point, all the other men had called it quits. They’d signed up to piss on someone, not watch him shit. Harry, though, remained. If anything, he was even more turned on the grosser everything got. Besides, this was Draco. He wanted to make sure he was still breathing. He slapped Draco’s face, lightly, trying to wake him up.</p>
<p>Draco mumbled in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.</p>
<p>Harry couldn’t just leave him there. He got him down from the sex swing and Apparated the both of them back to his apartment. He put Draco on the couch and covered him with an afghan.</p>
<p>The next morning, Harry found Draco at the breakfast table. He looked bad—almost like a different person from last night. He was alarmingly skinny, and he had huge circles under his eyes. Harry realized that he must have been using spells to make himself look healthier.</p>
<p>“What’s up with you?” Harry asked, pushing a mug of coffee in Draco’s direction.</p>
<p>“I have AIDS,” said Draco.</p>
<p>“You know there’s drugs for that now, right? Hell, I bet St. Mungo’s can probably cure it.” Harry was considering going there, himself. He’d fucked Draco bare, last night.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to be better.” Draco sipped his coffee, wrapping his skinny fingers around the mug to absorb its warmth.</p>
<p>“Why don’t…?” The realization hit Harry like a train from a platform that shouldn’t exist. “There are less elaborate ways to commit suicide.”</p>
<p>“I like the concept of this one,” said Draco. “The scion of a Pureblood house, debasing himself in unmanly ways until he dies of his excesses, hopefully in a compromising position that makes good tabloid fodder, even with the naughty bits covered by black boxes.” He sipped his coffee again. “So yeah, I’ve got AIDS. Also syphilis, herpes, the clap, warts…gotta catch’em all.”</p>
<p>Harry’s brain ground to a halt. “Wait. You know what Pokemon is?”</p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t I—Oh. You really think Purebloods all live in un-updated mansions with no tech later than the nineteenth century? Oh, Potter. We make a show of tradition, for the masses, and Hogwarts has its own peculiarities, but we’ve all got electricity and hot water—why have to maintain a bunch of spells when you can throw money at the electric company to do the same things—and we certainly have TVs and videogames. I had two Gameboys so I could get all the trade evolutions.”</p>
<p>“I never even had one. Dudley did, of course. I got to watch the TV show, sometimes. Didn’t know how to get money changed to muggle money till the year I was on the run, and my aunt would have thought I’d stolen it, anyway.”</p>
<p>“And they weren’t allowed at Hogwarts,” Draco finished.</p>
<p>“But anyway…bugcatching? Really?”</p>
<p>“It’s rare, but not a myth. You just have to be suicidal and a hedonist at the same time, and not end up on heroin first. I’m surprised you haven’t asked why.”</p>
<p>“Not hard to guess, Malfoy.”</p>
<p>“Bit hard to live with myself. That year—even just the things I only <em>saw</em>. You’re much the same, aren’t you.”</p>
<p>“The Boy Who Lived,” said Harry, bitterly. “I didn’t want to, you know. It’s all anyone ever sees.”</p>
<p>“Can’t escape our reputations,” said Draco, draining his mug. “It’s a path laid out for us, and the only way off is to stop.”</p>
<p>“It’s not even the reporters and fangroupies everywhere. It’s everyone treating me like a glass trophy. My job? It’s basically a sign-cure.”</p>
<p>“<em>Sinecure</em>. It’s Latin.”</p>
<p>“Whatever. Point is they don’t let me do anything. Give me promotions for nothing. I wanted to be an Auror, but not like this. I’m sick of it.”</p>
<p>“So what <em>do</em> you want to do, Potter? Join me?”</p>
<p>Harry stared at a spot on the table for a long moment. “Yeah,” he said at last. “If this is life, fuck living.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>6 months later</em>
</p>
<p>Harry’s HIV test had finally come back positive. Meaning, he had antibodies to it—not that those did any good against the virus, in the long run. But he’d known it was going to; it was simply a matter of time. He’d even gotten the flu-like sickness that sometimes goes with initial HIV infection. He’d been fucking Draco every day, sharing needles with him when they did drugs, and even taking steroids to trash his immune system further and catch up to Draco.</p>
<p>So he’d gotten the call from the NHS, attended a counseling session with a very nice lady who obviously assumed he’d be devastated by the news, and brushed off the offer of antiretroviral prescriptions with the excuse of “needing time to think about this.” Then he’d gone home to Draco and celebrated.</p>
<p>Today, thanks to their HIV and their habits, they were both sick. They weren’t sure where they’d picked it up—the illegal food cart? Leftover Indian food? Taking cocks ass to mouth in that tube station gloryhole? But wherever it had come from, it had their bowels and stomachs absolutely trashed. Neither of them could stop shitting for more than a few minutes. Both of them found this situation extremely hot.</p>
<p>Draco was extremely weak, and had given up on going to the toilet at all. Instead, he just shat the bed, letting his waste leak out of him without even attempting to control his bowels, vomiting occasionally as the nausea took him. He pissed there as well, since everything was already dirty. Most of the bed was slick with his disgusting fluids.</p>
<p>Draco was also horny beyond belief, even in his weakened state. Sometimes in end stage HIV, the sufferer becomes constantly aroused—perhaps controlled, in part, by the virus’s biological drive to spread itself. Draco was lucky enough to experience this, giving him a respite from the increasing weakness and pain as his body was ravaged by diseases and cancers. Even though he was taking heroin for the pain most of the time, his sex drive still ended up about where it had been before—which had been pretty high, since he’d been in his late twenties and had the Malfoy genetic bent to hedonism. So the shit-soaked sheets he lay in were also liberally smeared with cum, as the disease and the knowledge of his situation kept stoking the fire in his infected cock.</p>
<p>Beside him, Harry was in a similar state. He was stronger than Draco, and could have made it to the bathroom, but he gloried in their shared filth. He was streaked with brown from head to foot, and so was Draco, and very little could have turned him on more. Deliberately, Harry expelled a load of diarrhea into the already-sodden sheets, reveling in the release of it and in the taboo thrill of shitting the bed. His stomach gurgled, and he massaged it, hoping to have another load ready soon. It felt so good to let it all out.</p>
<p>Had anyone walked in, the stink would have knocked them flat. All that shit and vomit lying about, and with the heat turned up because Harry and Draco were wet with liquid shit and running fevers. However, the two of them had been lying in their own mess so long that they barely noticed the smell, unless they put their faces right in it. Which they did, sometimes, because the stench turned them on.</p>
<p>Draco’s lust stirred him again. He turned over and began to frot against Harry’s shit-slick thigh, coaxing him to respond.</p>
<p>“Harry, fuck me,” he begged. His voice was hoarse with thrush. Then, seized with a sudden wave of nausea, he vomited onto Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>The splatter and stench of stomach acid on Harry’s chest sent the blood rushing to his cock. He pressed Draco’s skinny body into the filthy sheets, preparing to enter it. Diarrhea still leaked out of Draco’s stretched asshole, a neverending slurry of brown filth. It made for good lube. Harry shoved his cock in, moaning as the shit-slick walls squeezed around him. All the diarrhea had given both of them tons of anal mucus, making their assholes super slick. Sometimes, if one of them hadn’t eaten in a while, he’d go to shit and all that would come out would be butt snot, looking like someone had emptied their entire sinuses onto wherever he had shit—but it all came out of his butt.</p>
<p>“I dare you to eat it,” Harry had told Draco, the first time it had happened. And Draco <em>had</em>. It had tasted like snot, if someone had farted at the same time as you’d coughed a snot wad into your mouth, according to Draco.</p>
<p>Seeing Draco willingly eat something so disgusting, knowing full well what it was, had sent a thrill of lust through Harry’s whole body. After that, Harry became more and more dominant towards Draco, and Draco had acquiesced to each new indignity he could devise not just willingly but <em>eagerly</em>. Draco craved to be dominated, humiliated, ego destroyed and obliterated—indeed, he ultimately desired his own death, his drives of eros and thanatos inseparably linked. Harry kept asking unthinkably extreme things, each time expecting Draco to say no, but he never did; and Harry discovered a streak of limitless cruel depravity within himself. He wanted to blame it on the piece of Voldemort’s soul that had inhabited his body for so long, but he knew it was not so. No, this was all him. So far, the only thing he had not dared to ask of Draco was irreversible genital mutilation, and even that was selfishly motivated—he liked being fucked just as much as Draco did, and if Draco were incapacitated, he’d have to buy a fucking machine, and then he’d have to clean the shit off himself to go sign for the package, and it seemed silly to buy such an expensive sex toy when he’d probably be dead in a few months anyway.</p>
<p>So what Harry did now wasn’t particularly extreme, for the two of them. He scooped up some of his own diarrhea and smeared it into Draco’s hair. The brown sludge mushed into the fine gold strands, staining them dark brown and matting them together. Draco shivered with arousal at the degrading act (or it might have been fever, who knew) and angled his ass to meet Harry’s thrusts.</p>
<p>It had been a while since the last time Harry vomited, and now he was feeling nauseated again. It wasn’t Draco’s fault, and Harry wasn’t disgusted by anything that was happening—he was just sick. His body acted on its own, though Harry himself offered no resistance, and he threw up onto Draco, dousing his shit-smeared hair with vomit.</p>
<p>Draco moaned with pleasure. He loved being showered with people’s fluids, and the more disgusting the better. On top of that, Harry’s gagging caused some truly delicious movements against his prostate. He’d come down with prostatitis recently, one of those myriad opportunistic infections, and it just made his pleasure gland extra sensitive. He could cum just from prostate stimulation now. This was a good thing, because his herpes was constantly flaring nowadays and it meant his cock was often too sore to handle. The addition of shit to his open sores didn’t help. The fact was, his cock was objectively disgusting. It wasn’t necrotic yet, but without medical training, it looked like it could be. The prospect turned Draco on. He was mutilating and nullifying the very thing he was meant to use to continue the proud, noble Malfoy line, just as he was slowly killing himself. If he didn’t like jizzing so much, he’d have had himself castrated ages ago, and his cock slit open and made useless. He wondered if Harry would ever ask him to do it, someday, maybe if it got bad enough it was going to fall off anyway. That would be a way to go! He really wanted the AIDS to kill him, but being mostly dead of AIDS and then dying during an epic cock-and-ball-torture orgasm would also be really good, and equally scandalous.</p>
<p>Harry’s filthy fingers moved closer to Draco’s lips.</p>
<p>“Give it to me,” Draco panted.</p>
<p>Harry scooped up more of his own shit and vomit and shoved it into Draco’s mouth, smearing the excess over his face.</p>
<p>The vile, bitter taste of shit and vomit exploded over Draco’s tongue. He gagged, adding a little of his own vomit to the mix. Still, though his cheeks puffed out, he managed not to lose the mouthful. Harry would punish him if he did, and though the punishments were always orgasmically amazing and sybaritically disgusting and painful, he didn’t want to disappoint Harry. Instead, Draco swirled the vile sickwaste around his mouth, getting used to its sulfurous, earthy bouquet, and then forced it down. All those fecal pathogens were going to make him so, so sick. His cock throbbed in anticipation of how his guts would cramp later, as the germs ravaged them.</p>
<p>“You can let it out now,” said Harry. “Fuck, you’ve been so good, such a filthy boy…” Harry groaned, obviously on the verge of cumming.</p>
<p>Draco let his body’s instincts overtake him and threw up his shit and vomit, as he and Harry came simultaneously, adding more fluids to the soaked bed. They were sick, and they’d never felt better in their lives.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this and want more of these kinks, check out my <a href="https://discord.gg/h6DYxDY">Discord Server</a>! We're pretty chill.</p>
<p>Comments are always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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